


Meet Me In The Library

by dr_ducktator



Category: Haven RPF
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_ducktator/pseuds/dr_ducktator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric owns a little convenience store near a college campus. Lucas is a new art professor. You get the rest...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lies, all of it.

ric ran his hands through his hair, leaned back against the cigarette display, and sighed. The hot guy was late. The hot guy was never late. He could set his watch by the hot guy. He stared out the window wistfully, trying to will the hot guy to appear. It was the one highlight of his day; owning a tiny convenience store sandwiched between a nail salon, hamburger joints, and bar after bar after bar didn’t afford him loads of excitement.

“Um, can I pay for this now?”

Eric tore his gaze from the window to look at the source of the voice that jarred him from his moment of longing. “What? Oh! Yeah, sorry about that. 75 cents.”

The tiny young woman who had generated the sound to which Eric responded handed him three quarters and huffed her way out the door. Apparently it’s a crisis if you have to wait more than ten seconds to get your giant fucking pop.

Eric bought the store from a college friend of his who’d gotten married and moved away to start a life, or something. Eric liked the little college town he’d lived in for nearly 15 years now, his tenure at college included, and he figured buying The Library from Danny was an excellent way to put his drama degree to good use. Yes. The store was called The Library. Clever, huh?

Owning and working in a convenience store very near a college campus did little for his social life, however, and it did even less for his love life. That’s why that hot guy was such a big deal. He didn’t remember seeing him in all of his years of owning The Library, and he didn’t seem to be the age of the typical undergrad, but he did come into the store, Monday through Friday, to buy a huge pop (The Library was known for its fountain pop, and you could buy a 44-ouncer for the wonderful price of 75 cents, tax included), and it was always at 10:25am. Always. So where the fuck was he?

Eric whirled around and checked the calendar to make sure it was a Thursday and not, like, Sunday, or something. His days tended to blend together because he did the same thing every day: wake up, do some yoga, drink some coffee, open The Library at 8 – seven days a week. But he liked his job. He enjoyed the student workers he employed, though there were only two of them, and he made enough money to live rather comfortably, even if the summers were slower for business.

“Yep. Thursday.” He said to no one and sighed. Resigning himself to the fact that the hot guy wasn’t going to show up today, even though he’d been consistently presenting his very pretty face in The Library every school day since the beginning of the semester three weeks ago. He turned back to the cigarette display behind the counter and started restocking it, like he did just about every day (students smoke a lot, apparently), and he made the stocking more entertaining by coming up with various scenarios that would explain the hot guy’s absence.

 

Okay, so maybe he was obsessing a little. But the hot guy was HOT. He wasn’t as tall as Eric, but then again, there aren’t loads of people milling around the general campus area that are, and he was lanky. Well, not lanky so much as thin. But not scary thin, just super-high metabolism thin. But the hot guy was also toned-thin, so Eric figured he at least ran, or something. He was thin like a runner. And he could rock the stubble; the hot guy had trudged into the store one morning, obviously exhausted, and Eric almost swallowed his tongue because the hot guy was all rumpled and unshaven like he’d just rolled out of bed. He couldn’t help but wish he’d been the one to cause all the rumpling. And he’d definitely bitten his tongue the first day he saw the hot guy and they made eye contact – his eyes were blue. Very blue. Baby blue? Sea blue? Sky blue? Azure? Well, suffice it to say they were blue and beautiful. And he had wispy hair that curled slightly, and it was always artfully messy – apart from rumpled day – like he was always on the verge of needing a trim. But it worked for him. Okay, it worked for Eric.

Besides the hot guy’s eyes, his lips may have been Eric’s favorite part. They weren’t too plush or too thin, and they were sort of shaped like a little bow; or maybe they looked like a little bow because the hot guy always had this near-bitchy look on his face which included slightly pursed lips. He was always very nice to him when he came in to the store to buy his daily caffeine, though Eric could barely say more than “75 cents” to him, but the hot guy didn’t seem like he was mean or perpetually crabby, warranting the semi-bitchface. He figured it was the hot guy’s default face, and once he’d gotten used to seeing him and realized he wasn’t the cause of it, he thought it was a little adorable.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Cigarettes stocked, pop stocked, inventory taken, oh, and condoms stocked, too (along with cigarettes college students like condoms, as well), Eric glanced at the clock and saw it was almost noon. “Okay,” he said to no one again, “He’s really not coming today. Well, _there’s always tomorrow_ ,” sing-songing in his best Clarice from “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” He settled onto the stool behind the counter and pulled out his little sketch pad. He wasn’t an artist, but he liked to doodle when he was bored. He usually ended up making signage for various products in the store when they were on sale. Today he was working on birds – owls, to be exact. He had no idea why. It just felt like an owl kind of day.

He dropped his pencil on the floor and bent to pick it up just as the bells above the door jingled, signaling the entry of a customer. Eric popped his head over the counter and saw the hot guy striding to the back of the store to get his daily dose. In his excitement that his day hadn’t been ruined by a distinct lack of the hot guy, Eric leapt up from the floor in an attempt to look cool and extremely available for when the hot guy came back to the counter. Of course, because the counter area was narrow and crowded and Eric was a lanky-ass giant, he knocked the stool over which caused a chain reaction of behind-the-counter tragedy. Cigarettes flew out of the display, tiny packets of aspirin, ibuprofen, and sexual performance enhancers (yes, those are popular among the students also) scattered all over the place, and, like something out of a slapstick comedy, the stool had hit a board which had his coffee resting on it and had, of course, propelled it through the air and all over the counter.

“Fuck me sideways,” Eric muttered to himself as he ran back to grab some paper towels to clean up the sea of coffee threatening his cash register. So much for looking aloof-ish. He could still look available, though, damn it. He was still mopping up the coffee, because apparently twelve ounces of coffee takes approximately thirty paper towels to clean up, when the hot guy approached. He really needed to learn his damn name. But first, he had to talk to him.

“What the hell, I look like a total asshole now anyway, so what harm can it do?”

“Excuse me?” the hot guy asked and set his pop on the counter.

“What?” Eric replied. He felt confused; he wasn’t sure why the hot guy was asking to be excused.

They seemed to be at a verbal standstill. The hot guy drew first. “Um, you said something about looking like an asshole?”

“I said that out loud? Jesus. Sorry. I spend a lot of time alone in here, so sometimes the line between what I say outside my head and inside my head blurs. Anyway.” Default crabby face in place on the hot guy wasn’t going to deter him today. “You come in here pretty much every day, and I know it’s not particularly my business – well, it is my business in that I own this place – but I mean, it’s not really my place to ask, but you know, I will ask anyway. What’s your name? I’m Eric. Eric Balfour.” He extended his hand across the counter and waited for the hot guy’s response.

The hot guy had retrieved his pop and was sipping from it while, Eric figured, he listened to him blather. He pulled the straw away from his mouth and smiled. It was a little sideways, as smiles go, part smirk, part sweet, but completely cute, and his eyes smiled along with his mouth. “I’m Lucas Bryant,” the hot guy said, taking Eric’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Eric. I do come in here a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled softly. “Well, I can’t resist 44 ounces of pop for 75 cents. I just can’t. I fell to peer pressure pretty much instantly when I was younger, so it doesn’t take a whole lot to get me hooked on something, especially when there’s caffeine involved.”

Eric liked Lucas’ voice. It wasn’t too deep, but it had a kind of tone to it that reverberated and crept under Eric’s skin. He had to keep him talking.

“Do you teach at the college?” Eric had pulled his doodle pad back out and was mindlessly running the pen over it in little circles. He waved his hands all over when he talked, and when he wasn’t talking he had to occupy them in other ways. His near-owl was in danger of death by scribble.

He glanced up at Lucas and saw he’d been staring at his sketch pad. Eric blushed and covered it with his hands. “Yeah. I teach in the art department, actually. Well, that’s not entirely true. I teach art history, but I also work out of the art department because I will teach an actual art class next semester. But yeah, this semester is art history. What are you drawing?”

“Oh this? Ha. It’s nothing. I just do it to pass time when I have everything done and I don’t have to watch students try and steal stuff. Um. Will there be anything else?”

“Uh, no. Just the pop. Or. Well, maybe. Look, I don’t know a whole lot of people here, since this is my first semester and all, so do you maybe want to hang out sometime?” Eric wanted to jump across the counter and run out the door with Lucas, all hand-in-hand and skipping down the lane, but he maintained his cool. But while maintaining said cool, he forgot to answer, and Lucas seemed to take that as a bad sign. “Or not. I mean. How about this? I will give you my number, and if you want to hang out or something, you can call me.”

“Yeah! Hanging out would be cool! I see mostly 18-year-olds day in and day out, so it would be great to have a conversation with an actual adult.”

Eric was answered with a bigger smile this time, and it made Lucas’ eyes twinkly.

“Okay, great. Well, I teach in the mornings, so I’m free pretty much all day. When are you usually done?”

“I get out of here around 5 on most days, but I’m always definitely out by 6. Do you want to meet somewhere, or should I come by your place? Or is that weird?”

“No, Eric. That’s not weird, but how about I just meet you up here? We can walk to grab some food and a beer or something. That way you don’t have to dick around with directions and all that.”

“Okay, then. So, tonight at 5?”

“Yeah, 5. I’ll see you then. Oh, and here’s the money for the pop. I’ll see you later, Eric. I’m looking forward to it.” And out the door he went.

“Me too,” he said to no one, again. He wouldn’t deny he had an extra spring in his step the rest of the day, even dancing every once in a while behind the counter – he decided his good fortune called for some celebratory music – he put in a Smiths CD and a happy song rang out over the store’s sound system, while he shook his ass and adapted “You’re the One For Me, Fatty” into his own slightly out-of-tune “You’re the One For Me, Lucas.” He was a lyrical gangster, alright?


	2. Chapter 2

5 o’clock rolled around and Eric was having a hard time containing his excitement. He’d counted his register so he could turn the reins over to the night manager, a kid named Ash who was barely 20, and a student worker named Sam. Ash was young, but he was good at his job; he took it pretty seriously, actually, as he was getting his degree in business and was convinced he owned the place and just let Eric run it for him during the day. He was always coming up with schemes to make more money for Eric, too, one of which involved having condoms made with the name of the store printed on them. Eric nixed that one pretty quickly. He was grossed out by the idea of The Library entering any orifices, teenage or otherwise.

Eric saw Lucas approaching The Library before he came in; the store was part of a sort of strip mall configuration, so he had a full view of the parking lot. Lucas was arriving from somewhere in the direction of campus. He was wearing the same outfit Eric saw him in earlier: dark jeans that looked slightly worn in places and made his ass look amazing, a blue plaid long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a grayish t-shirt underneath with an obscenely deep v-neck. Normally Eric thought those super deep v-necks made people look fucking ridiculous, but somehow Lucas made it work for him. And who was he to judge anyway? He’d never been the most fashion forward guy on his best day, and Ash often told him he needed to wear longer pants. He liked to be comfortable, though, so if pants that some people thought were too short for his long legs made him comfortable, fashionistas be damned.

Eric hollered to Ash that he was leaving, and after saying goodbye to Sam at the register, he stepped out into the too-warm September evening air and lit a cigarette – again, trying to look cool and casual. Lucas stepped up onto the sidewalk and Eric leaned his shoulder against the wall and took a long drag. “Hey, Lucas. Right on time.” He could feel himself smiling like an idiot, but he didn’t care. He wanted Lucas to know he was happy to see him.

“Hey. To be honest, I was here at like, 4:30. I left my office early because I didn’t want to be late.” Lucas laughed nervously and stroked his thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m really nervous. I’m sorry.” Lucas brushed his hair off his forehead and smiled hopefully.

“You’re nervous!?” Eric’s laugh was a little high-pitched as his nerves jangled under his skin. Lucas’ admission was both encouraging and stress-inducing. “That’s. Wow.” He took another drag and put the cigarette in the ash can. He leaned against the wall again, this time with one arm pressed against the brick while the other rested on his stomach (this was a combination look-good-while-not-throwing-up-from-nerves steadying gesture). “I’m nervous, too. But look, now that we know we’re both nervous, let’s not be nervous, okay?”

Lucas blew out a long breath. “Okay. I will work on that. What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Well, I’m pretty partial to this Mediterranean place across the street. Do you like Mediterranean food?”

Lucas looked like he may have had some kind of internal struggle going on, and it took him a while to answer. Finally, looking forlorn he said, “I can’t eat Mediterranean food.”

Eric was taken aback. “Really? Like, no Mediterranean food at all?”

“No. Not at all. I’m really allergic to pretty much everything you can find at a Mediterranean restaurant, up to and including legumes.”

“So like, not even hummus?” Eric’s heart was breaking. He wasn’t sure a life without hummus was one worth living.

Lucas’ eyebrows crept up his forehead. “Oddly enough, I can eat hummus.”

“Really? You can eat hummus?” Eric felt there may be hope yet.

“No. I can’t eat hummus.” Eric’s face fell. His hummus-filled dreams falling with it. Lucas must have noticed his disappointment because a second later he said, “Shit, Eric. I’m just kidding. I was being sarcastic. I’m sorry. That wasn’t cool of me. I don’t know you that well, and I kind of use sarcasm as a defense mechanism when I’m nervous, and I’m failing this new friendship test miserably. Feel free to hate me.”

Eric had never been one to pick up on sarcasm right away. He appreciated it, though, and he realized that the internal struggle Lucas looked like was having a moment ago must have been linked to his trying to decide whether he could fuck with Eric or not.

Eric patted Lucas on the back and guided them in the direction of the restaurant. “It’s okay, Lucas. We’re both nervous. But pull that shit again and I will put the hurt on you.”

“Put the hurt on me?”

“Yes.” He smiled and made a sweeping gesture from his head downward. “I may look like I’m all arms and legs, and yes I smoke, but under this friendly, adorable, scoundrel-esque veneer lies a killing machine. I have to have a permit to carry myself around – I’m just that deadly.”

“Touché, sir,” Lucas laughed. “Touché.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Their dinner conversation was easy and comfortable. Eric delighted in the fact that there weren’t any awkward pauses, and he was learning, slowly, how to appreciate Lucas’ sense of humor. He was snarky with a capital snark, but he was charming, to say the least. They talked about where they’d come from, where they wanted to go. He learned Lucas was actually Canadian and had taught art in Toronto for a couple of years before arriving in the States.

“So, and don’t get me wrong, I love it here, why would you leave Toronto to come here? Was it a higher professorial ranking? Better courses? The sweet smell of American freedom?”

Lucas laughed at his last question and a shy smile spread across his face. “Actually, I was in Massachusetts for a year before I came here, and I ended up in Massachusetts because I followed someone there. But, as the stupid story always goes, he broke my heart, I was offered the job here, I didn’t feel like moving back home, and so here I am in Cali-for-nye-ay.”

Eric was simultaneously exhilarated and sobered by the new batch of information. Lucas was, on some level, same-sex oriented. YES! But he couldn’t get too excited by this news because clearly whatever happened had hurt him, and Eric has been nosing around and made him rehash it. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Lucas held up his hands. “No. No, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just thought I’d throw all that on the table and get it out of the way. So that’s me, I guess. I could tell you the gory details of the break up and all that, but I’m not up for that bitch down memory lane.”

“It’s cool. At least you’ve been places. I’m from California, so I’ve pretty much just lived here my whole life. I went to college here, and I bought The Library from a friend when he moved away, and here I sit. I’ve been here around fifteen years now. But I like it. I’m settled. I can play in the water whenever I want and my little business is thriving. I can’t complain. I feel pretty damn happy.” He leaned back in his chair, full from his dinner, and winked at Lucas. “Though I have to say, it’s been a long time since I’ve had my heart smashed all over the place. I’m sure I’m just about due.”

He watched Lucas for any kind of reaction. He saw a smirk play across his face, and it heartened Eric a little. He was a flirt. He couldn’t help himself. And if dropping hints that were about as subtle as an air horn were what it took to get a second (first?) date with Lucas, well, honk honk.

They paid for their respective dinners and walked out into the now cooler night air. September evenings in California were something pretty amazing. “So,” Eric said as he lit a cigarette, “what do you want to do now? It’s still early, but I don’t know if you have to teach in the morning. I mean, I know you usually go somewhere because you come into the store every day, but we could grab a beer. You mentioned beer earlier, anyway.”

There were all kinds of things Eric was dying to know about Lucas: his favorite color, favorite smell, favorite TV show/movie/band; all the important things that you learn about a person eventually. Eric wasn’t one to wait for eventually, though. He wanted to know this shit now. But all those queries seemed to be the kinds of things you saved for a first or second date, or something, and Eric really didn’t know if this was a date. He didn’t feel like pressing the issue, either. After all, it isn’t every day that the hot guy you’ve been drooling over for approximately three weeks and has the prettiest blue eyes ever asks you to hang out. Okay, so that was a little specific, but you get the gist.

“Yeah, beer sounds good. Since you’re playing tour guide, why don’t you take me to your favorite bar? But I get to buy you a drink for being so accommodating.”

Eric was about to head toward this little Irish Pub he adored near campus, but when Lucas said he wanted to buy him a drink, he simultaneously placed a hand on Eric’s left arm and squeezed a little. It was definitely a squeeze. Lucas’ squeeze made Eric’s lungs sort of squeeze as well and he couldn’t really breathe – and it totally wasn’t because of the cigarette. Lucas was flirting with him! It was then that Eric decided all flirt systems were go.

“Well, if you insist. But I have to warn you, I have expensive taste in beer,” he said, as he led them down the sloping hill leading to the pub. Conveniently, the pub was about a two-minute walk from the restaurant.

“What counts as expensive beer? Not that I mind. Here, let me.” They’d reached the doors of the pub and Lucas had hopped in front of him to get the door. Eric was convinced Lucas’ adorability had no bounds.

“Jameson Irish Whiskey. It’s such an expensive beer they don’t even call it beer,” he replied, as he waved to the bartender. Eric knew everyone who worked at the pub, and he even had a little place semi-reserved for him. He ushered Lucas over to the tiny corner booth and slid in next to him so they were sitting half-across from each other and half-angled toward one another. Eric wanted knee-brushing access.

The bartender stopped at the table, Eric ordered his whiskey on the rocks, and Lucas opted to have the same. “What happened to us getting beer?” he asked Lucas.

“Eh, I can have beer anytime, but there’s something sort of romantic about having Irish whiskey in an Irish pub.”

“Yeah?” Eric couldn’t believe his luck. It seemed that Lucas was as much of a ridiculous flirt as he was. Bring it. Before he could think of a sexy, yet snarky reply, the bartender returned with their drinks. He picked up his glass and motioned for Lucas to do the same. “Well, here is to making a new friend, and to drinking Irish whiskey in an Irish pub. And to sappy, romantic overtures?” He finished his toast and rolled his eyes at himself. “Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

Neither of them had taken a drink yet. They sat there, looking over their glasses at one another, and Eric knew that if some onlooker were to describe the scene before them, they only way they could explain the silent exchange between the two men would be via two words: eye fucking. Eric could feel Lucas' eyes burning into him, almost through him, like he could see into his brain and could access all the images and schemes and plans Eric kept stored there, 99% of which centered on Lucas. Eric wasn’t stupid, though; he knew he had soulful brown eyes – one of his exes used to go on about them and after awhile you start to listen – and damn it, he could eye fuck like a pro. So he let himself do it, and he could see Lucas’ own stare waver slightly under the pressure of his gaze. It seemed like it had become a contest between the two of them, a battle for dominance; dominance over what, Eric didn’t know, but he was having fun.

Finally, Lucas broke first and took a sip of his drink. Eric smiled to himself, and released the air he didn’t know he’d been holding in. He had no idea how long that stand-off lasted, but he was really turned on by the whole thing. And, judging by the light dusting of pink on Lucas’ cheeks, he figured he felt the same.

They spent at least two more hours relaxing and getting to know one another, each of them seemingly becoming braver as the minutes progressed and their whiskey glasses filled time and again. Jameson wasn’t something you slammed back, but even two or three glasses could affect you, especially when you’re sitting with a man who fucks with your senses like Lucas does. Of course he was a feast visually, but they kept brushing their knees together, which sent thrills through Eric’s leg to parts of his body he was trying to avoid thinking about just then. And Lucas would pause while they were talking; he was clearly a thoughtful person, always taking the time to piece together exactly what it was he wanted to say. It was in those pauses, though, in between the words coming from Lucas’ amazing mouth, that Lucas would run a finger across his bottom lip and Eric’s head almost exploded. And he smelled perfect, too. Like art. Which, yeah, that’s fucking nuts to say, but he smelled like school supplies, or paintbrushes, or paint, or a whole host of other unconventionally sexy smells. Maybe it was some kind of art professor cologne.

To sum up: Lucas made Eric’s senses light up and buzz and dance. It was unnerving, to say the least, but it also felt really good.

They seemed to be so easy together, like they were meant to be friends, at the very least. They’d warmed up to one another’s sense of humor, and soon they were trading barbs. These barbs were, of course, nothing but very poorly masked flirtation on both of their parts. Eric wasn’t always the fastest on the uptake, but when Lucas casually dropped questions like “So, do you have a roommate or do you live with anyone?” and “What bands are deal-breakers for you?” he could have been in a coma and picked up on Lucas’ shameless – and very welcome – fishing expedition.

“So, earlier, when you were doodling that owl, did you finish it after I left?” Lucas asked.

“Nah. I don’t know why, but owls have been my thing lately, and I can’t quite get the hang of them.”

“I can help, if you want. Here.” Lucas pulled a pen out of his pocket and slid it over to Eric along with a cocktail napkin.

Eric picked up and uncapped the pen, ready for instructions. “Okay,” Lucas said, “first, draw a circle.” Eric did. “Then, draw another circle joining with that first one you drew, but sort of at a titled angle.” Eric drew the second circle. He was pretty excited about learning how to finish his damn owl, and the tone Lucas used – his teaching tone, obviously – was super hot. If he ever got Lucas into bed he’d have to explore that voice kink of his.

“What’s next?” Eric asked.

“Okay, well, you drew two circles. Next, you draw the rest of the fucking owl.”

Eric’s mouth dropped open and he looked up at Lucas. “Oh. Oh, you’re an asshole, Bryant,” he said, and started laughing along with the man who was gasping for air across from him.

Lucas wiped a few errant tears from his face. “Ahhh, I’m sorry, man. Hey, I never said I was a good art teacher.” And he started laughing at his joke all over again.

“You’re lucky you’re so hot, otherwise I’d probably be pissed right now.” Shit! “I mean…well…fuck.” Lucas’ eyebrows were raised in an “oh really?” expression. “Yeah. I think you’re hot. And I usually have a better filter, but the whiskey seems to have broken it.”

And that’s when the night shifted around him, because Lucas leaned over the table while he placed a hand on Eric’s knee and said, “Show me your place.” Such an expression could be innocent enough in itself, but the way Lucas’ voice dropped about twenty octaves, the way his eyes darkened, and the steely grip he had on Eric’s knee told him there was nothing innocent about what Lucas had in mind. Innocence is totally fucking overrated, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Eric’s place was just over the river from where the pub stood. The walk took about ten minutes, and a heavy silence lay between the two men as they headed toward, well, whatever it was they were headed toward inside Eric’s house. He was running through the details of the state of his place as they walked, grateful that he was a pretty neat person, as he didn’t think he’d left anything horribly embarrassing lying around. He’d bought an old Victorian-style home about five years ago and had fixed it up, here and there, when he’d had enough money. He still wanted a pool, but that would happen eventually. The house was perfect now; it was kind of his baby. He loved it.

He didn’t get a chance to give Lucas the grand tour, however, because as soon as he shut the door behind them, Lucas had slammed him up against that door, rattling the stained glass there. Lucas had a hold of Eric’s chin, forcing him to look in his eyes. The grip wasn’t painful, though, but Eric sensed the authority pouring out of Lucas and he didn’t think he’d ever been so turned on in his life. He felt like he was on fire with it.

“Jesus, Eric. You’ve been making me nuts all night. And I’m not trying to be weird, here, but I’ve been coming into The Library every day hoping to work up the nerve to talk to you and I never could. And now I feel like today was so perfect that I had to tell you all that.” He was pressed flush against Eric, and he could feel the hardness of every inch of Lucas’ body. It was maddening, not closing the barely-there distance between them so he could feel the lips he’d been fantasizing about for weeks against his own, but he wanted Lucas to make the first move. He needed him to.

He couldn’t speak. He could only breathe – barely – as he slid his hands up the sides of Lucas’ hips and held him in place. He hooked his fingers in Lucas’ belt loops and pulled him impossibly closer while he thrust forward with his own hips. The friction he was rewarded with pulled gasps from both men; it felt so good Eric could only let his head fall back against the door. The stained glass rattled again.

Lucas took the opportunity Eric’s bare neck offered him, and latched onto it while he slipped a hand under Eric’s shirt, his fingers barely breaching the waistline of his pants. Eric’s head snapped forward and he whispered frantically, “Fuck, Lucas, kiss me. Please.” Lucas met Eric’s eyes, smirked, and attacked him with a kiss that was bruising and filthy in the best ways. Lucas’ mouth was hot and tasted like whiskey, his tongue soft and searching as it met Eric’s. Eric was overwhelmed with the rush of adrenaline Lucas’ kiss brought, and it took everything he had not to rip his clothes off as they continued rutting against each other in the foyer.

Eric pushed Lucas away from him, holding him at bay with one arm while he gathered his breath and his wits. “Let’s,” he panted “go up to my bedroom.” Lucas nodded and stepped aside to let Eric pass. Eric tried to walk to the bedroom, tried to maintain the level of cool he’d been cultivating all night, but his excitement got the best of him. He reached back and grabbed Lucas’ hand, all but dragging him to his bedroom.

And, as much as Eric wanted Lucas to be all bossy and in control, he figured he’d have to save that for next time – and there sure as hell had to be a next time – because if he let Lucas go all toppy bastard on him now, he wouldn’t last five minutes. Once inside his room, Eric led Lucas to the bed, but kept him standing. Somewhere along the way Lucas had taken off his overshirt and was now in his jeans and perfectly snug t-shirt. Eric grabbed the bottom hem of the shirt and lifted it over Lucas’ head, dipping in to mouth at the spot between his collar bones as he threw the shirt on the floor by the bed.

He continued kissing along Lucas’ chest, not letting the awkward angle interfere with getting Lucas’ pants off in record time. Every point of contact his mouth made with Lucas’ skin drew breathy moans from the nearly naked man before him and Eric had found a new favorite hobby. He was reveling in the fact that he could make Lucas so breathless with want, and he hoped he was communicating to Lucas how turned on he was by him. Eric had managed to get Lucas completely undressed while never taking his mouth off his neck and chest for more than a moment or two. He found Lucas’ mouth again, and deepened the kiss as he placed one hand at the back of his neck to tilt his head for a better angle. The hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied slid over Lucas’ chest past his toned stomach, and down to his cock. He trembled as Eric wrapped his hand around it, setting up an excruciatingly slow, steady rhythm. Eric wasn’t cruel by any means, but he did believe in playing a little.

Lucas seemed to snap out of his Eric-induced daze when he felt a hand on his cock, for he was trying to undress Eric and remain standing at the same time. Eric spoke in between the slow stroke he was administering. “Having a hard time staying upright, Lucas?”

Lucas let out a kind of frustrated moan, batted Eric’s hand away, and momentarily regained his composure. “Get the fuck out of your fucking clothes right the fuck now.” And there it was. That damn tone Eric had heard earlier in the night. Eric was equal parts turned on and impressed; it’s not every day someone could make him weak with just their voice, but Lucas was exceptional, obviously.

He started to undress, but he must not have been moving fast enough for Lucas’ liking because before he knew it, he was being helped along by nimble fingers that unbuttoned and tugged faster than seemed possible. Once naked, Lucas pulled him in for another kiss, this one less urgent, but still completely electrically charged. The air was thick between them, and the anticipation was killing Eric.

He backed Lucas up to the bed as he kissed him, and when he had Lucas finally lying down he crawled over top of him and slotted himself in the space Lucas offered between his legs. As he settled his body on down on Lucas’ the feel of the meeting of their skin sent bolts of lightning through Eric, and he couldn’t help the “Fuck, Lucas” that escaped his mouth.

Where earlier it seemed they were racing toward something, now they silently acknowledged the need to make this first time between them last, to actually enjoy themselves, to not let this be a hurried fuck. There was no reason to hurry. Eric took Lucas’ arms and pinned them to the mattress above them while Lucas lifted his hips off the bed to meet Eric’s small grinding thrusts as they panted into each other’s mouths. He propped himself up on one arm as he snaked his other hand under Lucas’ ass and pulled him upward to increase the friction between them.

Eric decided he didn’t want any of what they were doing to end, like, ever, but his body didn’t always listen to the amazing ideas his brain entertained. Lucas didn’t seem to listen either because Eric soon found himself flipped over onto his back. Lucas was kneeling before him, and Eric only got a brief glimpse of the insane hotness in front of him before he was pulled up onto his own knees and Lucas’ hand wrapped around his cock. Eric had never found himself in this position before, but it instantly became his favorite.

They traded kisses that were too slow for as turned on as they were, but that somehow added to the intensity of everything Eric felt. Eric had bigger hands than Lucas and he knew it, so he pushed Lucas’ hand away from his cock as he shifted closer to him. He took them both in his right hand and pushed at Lucas so he had to lean back, supported by his arms behind him, and Eric leaned forward and over him slightly. Lucas thrust up into Eric’s hand on every down stroke, and the filth that spilled from his mouth made Eric blush – and how he could still blush while being mind-blowingly turned on, he didn’t know. Lucas began fucking into his hand faster, and Eric was mesmerized by the scene that played out before him. Lucas’ head was tilted back, his hips rocking as his cock slid in and out of Eric’s grip, and he moaned, long and low.

He lifted his head and looked Eric in the eyes. The look burned through Eric and he sped up the pace. He could feel the heat radiating from Lucas where their cocks rubbed together, and Eric knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Lucas, I’m close, I’m so fucking close.” He bit his lip to keep himself from coming right then. But his admission must have triggered something in Lucas because only a few strokes after he spoke Lucas breathed out “Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like – fuck” and he came, spilling hot over Eric’s hand and cock. And though he knew it was coming like a fucking bullet train, Eric’s orgasm surprised him, and he lurched forward over top of a now collapsed Lucas, jerking himself off onto Lucas’ stomach before nearly falling onto him completely.

He face-planted on the bed, sucking in as much oxygen as his feather comforter would allow before mustering the strength to climb off the poor man he was probably crushing. He groped around on the floor until he found an old t-shirt which he used to clean Lucas and himself up. Tossing the shirt back to the floor and flopping back down on the bed next to Lucas he said, “Sorry about almost flattening you, but Jesus Christ, that was amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you.”

Lucas laughed breathily and draped and arm over his eyes – clearly he wasn’t fully recovered either – “There’s no need for thanks. I mean, it’s not like I was doing you a favor or giving you a freebie. I got an incredibly intense orgasm out of the deal. I figure it was a win-win for both of us.”

“I’m really glad we finally spoke to each other, Lucas. I don’t know how long I would have cowered behind my counter, and maybe we would have never gone out and never had incredible sex, and that would be sad and lonely for us both.”

“Well, that’s not something you need to worry about.” Lucas turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “I like you, Eric. I like you a lot. And I will keep coming in to The Library every single day to buy my 75 cent pop, only now I won’t have to be afraid to talk to the hot guy behind the counter. That’s what I called you in my head, you know; you were ‘the hot guy behind the counter’.”

Eric met Lucas’ grin with his own. “No shit!? That’s awesome. In my head you were ‘the hot guy’! Jesus Christ, we’re too fucking adorable for words.”

Lucas had settled on his back again and was looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, man, I used to walk in the store, head for the pop at the back, and worry about how I was going to talk to you. Of course, I never did. Well, until today, that is.” He slid off the bed and pulled his underwear and jeans on. “Where’s the bathroom?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just down the hall. You can’t miss it. I’d get off my ass and show you, but you seemed to have melted me so I can’t. I can barely lift my arm to point you in the right direction.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find it.” Lucas stepped into the hallway. Eric saw light flood out from the bathroom, so he knew Lucas had found it. He wanted to doze off, but he didn’t want to be rude, so he rolled off the bed and began hunting for something comfortable to put on. As he was pulling on his pants, he heard Lucas hollering down the hall over the rush of running water. “Yeah, so talking to each other was an awesome idea. But now that I’ve spoken to you I have a whole new store-related worry.”

Eric yelled back, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

The water shut off and Eric could hear Lucas fiddling with a towel. “I have to figure out how I’m going to get you to let me fuck you in that storeroom you keep at the back of the store.”

Eric paused mid-shirt-donning and sat back down on the bed for fear of his legs going out on him. “Holy shit,” he said quietly to himself. “The hot guy is so hot.”

Lucas appeared in the doorway wearing a grin that Eric was quickly coming to understand meant mischief. He scooted up the bed until he was sitting by the pillows with his back to the wall. He pasted his own little grin on his face, motioned to Lucas with a quick wiggle of his index and middle fingers, and said, “C’mere.” Lucas obeyed and started crawling toward him on the bed.

Eric was about to explain, in great detail, exactly how he’d let Lucas fuck him wherever and whenever he wanted. Seriously. The hot guy was hot.

 

FIN


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